


Of Pain and Sighs

by shemlentrash (Jess_X)



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Dark Solas, F/M, Fade Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Break Up, Shameless Smut, Smut, The Fade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-13 02:56:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3365105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jess_X/pseuds/shemlentrash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short time after his disappearance, Solas visits the Inquisitor in her dreams. He means to tell her he is sorry for having abandoned her, but both are too overwhelmed by the experience to speak much, and the heat between them complicates the meeting as it always had.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Pain and Sighs

**Author's Note:**

> WARNINGS: Rough sex - violent sex, honestly, and what could possibly be construed as dubious consent (though, I assure you, it's all consensual). Also, weird magic fade physics. Hm. That shit is hard to get across on page. Maybe I need more practice. Or maybe I just shouldn't write any stories that take place in the fade, hahaha. Moral of this story is: Don't write fics, even little bitty smutty ones, at 3AM.

Most was quiet. The rustle of wind through the leaves seemed to howl, however. She covered her ears, closed her eyes, wishing the wind to go away. Then hands – long, gentle, but calloused – closed upon her wrists, left her vulnerable to the whistling air again. She blinked and looked, already knowing.

“You,” and the word was but a fleeting breath, disappearing into the cool night as though never spoken.

Grey eyes, endless, vessels for an agony she could never get enough of.

“I am sorry, _ma vhenan_.” His fingers traced the structure of her jaw, lingering like sweat and sighs after making love.

Levellan shook her head and looked away. “This is not real,” she uttered, a note of despair etched in every syllable. This was a dream. She could tell. There was no need for pretense or to hide her weakness.

Solas’ throat caught. He wished to visit her on the physical plane, wished to take her to the ruins of his temples and show her exactly what he was – show her who she’d given her heart to. She deserved to know the monster he was.

“ _Vhenan_ ,” came his gentle sigh, swollen with anguish, and she inhaled the word like her last breath.

“Solas,” she murmured, and his heart ached as the name passed her lips. “I want to hate you for leaving.” He cupped her face in his hands, boring into her eyes as she went on. “But I can’t hate you. You bastard. I… can’t.” She shook her head. Tears shone, threatening a downpour.

He kissed her before thinking, before waiting on her to continue, before letting his mind catch up to his impulses so it could tell him he was being selfish and chide him from this mistake. But tongue found mouth and sighs got tangled, and he knew withdrawing from this would take every ounce of energy he had. They kissed hard, sinking in passion, noisy even over the violent wind pushing at them. Their lips were devouring, tongues tasting, starved for one another after this long month apart.

“I love you,” she cried on a gentle exhale between mad kisses and wild, wanting, panting breaths. The sound carried like mist, settling overhead and wafting around them. “Gods, I… love you… so much.”

There were tears on her cheeks now, rolling over her jaw and trailing into nothing. Solas wiped them with his thumbs as he held her face still, continuing to lavish her with his mouth as her hair whirled around her tall pointed ears. His passion was spiraling into a beast he feared he would not be able to control. With a tiny growl, the wolf in him stirring fiercely, the sleek elf broke their smacking mouths apart, and scraped his teeth along the length of her neck. She hissed. He could smell her blood beneath the tender flesh, smell her arousal mounting between her legs, and hear her pulse racing, all at once. He groaned breathily in sensory overload, shutting his eyes but holding her close to him. He wanted to possess her, to consume her, to drown her in his heat.

On a sob, she cried out over the howls of the sky, hands drowning in the front of his robes, “I miss you terribly, _emma lath_ ,” and he flinched as though she had hit him with this statement. His heart ached, pins and needles in his very soul growing more painful by the second.

Perhaps this visit had been a bad idea. She did not even know that he was real, and still she cried; still she longed for him and called his name to the heavens. It was a space in her heart best left unfilled, but for him the absence was daggers between his ribs, and he longed for strength like hers – the strength to endure this separation, as he was finding it impossible.

He made to pull away form her, but to his great relief Levellan took him by the head and dragged him back down into the abyss of her divine lips. He swelled with lust at her insistence, and suddenly the world was changing around them. The wind became a gentle rain, and the earth beneath their feet was stone. He wanted to see where they were, but he could not glance around for she was demanding his attention incessantly, and he relished it. “Yes,” he heard her breathe between kisses. “Yes... Solas… please… stay with me.” Solas grunted in response through a mouthful of her desperation, and it seemed to satisfy. “Take me,” she moaned, and the words reverberated in his gut, tearing down every defense he had. “It’s been… far too long. Please.”

“Vhenan,” he croaked, as she began to pepper his neck with angry biting kisses. “I… should not stay. This… this was my mistake…” But she would hear none of it, and very suddenly he found himself being tugged to the floor by his collar. Her tiny fists were balled up in his fraying robes, and he leaned over her as they tumbled to the ground, panting, smiling like children lost to young love.

Amplified by the magic of the fade, he felt the arousal confined in his breeches straining, aching for her. Oh, how he had missed her. No spirit or god or haunting past could ever take this feeling away from him – the need, the devotion, the sensation of being only one half of something more important, on a level that would not mean the destruction of worlds and the death of gods. This love was all his, and it was more real to him than the centuries of offerings and prayers and vile slights against his name – and, as such, it burned hotter, too.

She shifted them, so that she was now looming over him, and his head was on a stone ground – yet it was not cold or hard, but was comfortable, in fact.

The rain seemed not to touch them, she noticed as she straddled the ghost of the man she once had given her soul to – the man who’d stolen that from her, who still she loved furiously. The fade’s physics were playing tricks on them again, but it mattered not. Nothing could stop her from this now. Nothing. Her fingers flew deftly down the length of his robes, pushing aside what fabric was not closed around his body. When she found the button of his trousers, she licked her lips and praised Mythal. He fixed her with a gaze so scrutinizing, she felt her blood run cold. Her eyes dancing mischievously, defying him even beneath his fearsome hounding gaze, she undid the single button. He threw his head back in relief as her hands found his flesh, hard and hot and wanting.

“ _Da’len_ ,” he moaned, reeling at the glorious fade-magnified bliss that was her touch upon his naked cock. He shook his head, unthinking. He was overcome, and already could feel his blood boiling and his veins screaming with desperation to be buried inside her. His Inquisitor. Gods, there was nothing like it, and it had been _so long_.

Running his wide rough palms over the length of her torso, lingering lasciviously on her nipples and tracing the curve of her breasts, it took him a moment to realize that her shirt had come off at some point, and he had not noticed. Or, was this yet another trick of the fade? That seemed more likely. She did not seem to notice, however, for he had taken a nipple between thumb and forefingers, pinched and twisted to grant her a pleasure dappled magnificently with pain. He remembered how she loved that. Solas tugged hard, squeezing violently, watching the piercing pain roll through her in the way that waves of ecstasy might fill one lost to earthly delights. She let out a ringing sob at this, head flung back, torso heaving deeply, hand beginning to move along the length of his arousal.

And oh, how that hand moved. Solas’ heart seemed to collapse in on itself as she began to pump her fist around him, tugging from him an orchestra of long, low sighs and the most delicious of wanting snarls. He shook his head wildly, feeling his primal soul begin to rage. He clawed, desperately, at the chance to appease it. “Please,” he growled in a dark rumble, face contorting into rage composed entirely of lust. “Please. I need you.”

Neither of them knew when she had become naked, and neither of them cared. Wet and completely wild with desire, the Inquisitor did not wait. She lowered herself onto his great length with a whine of ecstasy. The way her mouth fell open, her brow knitted, and her hair fell tousled around her superbly long ears – she was the essence of beauty to him. She was decadence made tangible, and he needed to feel her more.

He clung to her narrow waist with shaking hands, and used his strength to further her movements, up and down, up and down, until she was riding him with complete abandon, shrieking into the endless green sky, echoing in the bizarre rain. When had his robes vanished? He could not say.

After a particularly shrill moan, body shuddering and gushing down his greedy cock, she gasped, “ _Take me_ ,” and he smirked wickedly through his gritted teeth. He flipped her onto her back in a smooth rolling motion, beyond content to oblige her.

One leg was forced up by his hand’s firm grip, knee almost to her head, and she winced, but nodded to egg him on. Grinning, appearing downright sinister, the tall mysterious elf began to fuck her deeply. He did not wait for her to adjust, but simply savaged her – faster than his earthly body could ever have moved, really, banging his hipbones against hers with every violent thrust. The force of it would have bruised her outside of the fade. He knew. He remembered how it had before. "I'm... so sorry," he rasped, and it was barely concealed in his single quiet sob. He was inches from her mouth, tasting her breath and becoming drunk on it.

“Oh… gods… ” She panted throatily. Lavellan was watching his biceps, muscles tense and defined, and she took hold of them as though bracing herself under his fierce barrage. Solas grunted with each insistent entry, moved by his primitive nature, and driven by her obvious loss of self in his possessive grasp.

“Fuck… Oh, gods, ah... _Dread Wolf, take me_ , I’m… _fuck_ …”

He roared at this declaration, a true animal rousing in his chest, and she yelped – his sudden change in demeanor was shocking; uncharacteristic. He became rougher and more violent than he had been, and he was positively terrifying. She could have sworn his eyes had gone white. The air around their bodies crackled and hissed, boiling it seemed in lieu of their heat. Passion ruled them, and was eating them both alive.

Solas’ teeth buried themselves in her neck, and she was screaming, writhing, clawing at his muscular back in a fierce expression of her pleasure, pain, and honest fear. The sky was alight, and she could see over his shoulder that it was in flames. It was no comfort.

“Solas,” she trilled, and his name cried out under force of sex was a prayer like he’d never heard. The sound crashed, shuddered, destroyed, consumed – and he was undone.

He spent inside her, eyes rolling, teeth gnashing, blood rushing – his heart crying out for a promise of another tomorrow… for one more day, one more night with her, one that might last a lifetime. Her body clenched around his pulsing cock as he spilled an unconscionable amount into the Inquisitor’s soft center. Her throaty moan and gyrating hips told him she wanted all of it, despite how she shivered fearfully. The resulting sloppy mess of love making was inevitable, apparently even here.

Refusing to withdraw from her, he breathed heavily over her fragile little body, staring down into her with a love that looked, in that moment, like more of a thirst than anything. He was still trying to calm the beast in him. It could not be helped.

“ _Emma lath_ ,” she said weakly, reaching up to touch his face, and trailing her fingers back to stroke his ear. He was like a storm forcing itself to calm, and though she could tell he struggled, his eyes were still their normal cloudy grey. “I miss you so much.” She sounded strangled with emotion. “I wish that you were still with me, Solas. I wish that this were real. It hurts to do anything anymore, without you. If only you could see how the others have tried to cheer me up during my periods of brooding, pining after you. It’s pathetic.” She was laughing, but the light did not quite reach her eyes, and the sound was vaguely hollow.

He swallowed painfully, gulping back the truth that danced at the tip of his tongue and whined for release. “I… am more sorry than you can know, _vhenan_.” He nuzzled her shoulder. “I love you.”

A low whistling sigh; a new gust of wind. “I wish that were true.” She held him close, close hearts a chorus of drums.

The searing sensation that ripped through his heart almost woke him. “It is,” he choked, clutching her face with a desperation she did not understand. It scared her a little. “It _is_ true, it _is!_ ” His voice was getting louder now, and she looked tentative before pushing him off of her at last. “It is,” he repeated lamely, watching her stand. It was as though a limb had just been ripped from his corpse and he could never be whole again without it.

His semen was dripping down her thigh and she stood shamelessly nude before him, allowing him the full sight of her.

"I love you,” he said again, barely above a whisper. “ _Ma'arlath!_ I love you so much, and… gods, you’re so beautiful, I… I am unworthy.”

“You are not real,” she stated once again, and turned.

There was nothing he could do. He put a hand to his chest as though to massage the wound, and felt linen. He looked down. He was clothed. He shook his head, dismissing the fade’s magic for once and feeling his eyes sting. Of course. Love was but a fleeting delight, he reminded himself. This... this had been selfish and naive. It should never have happened. He watched her hips sway out of sight, and then with a flash – she vanished.

The Inquisitor woke to find herself twisted in her bed sheets. Untangling herself, she also came to discover that she was sweating profusely, and very warm to the touch. She had become flushed at her erotic dream, her dream that had felt so real, and now her body was actually aching in the aftermath.

Solas’ face swam before her eyes, and without a second to stop herself or even think about it first, the tears came fast. They were hot and heavy and stung on her flushed cheeks. Her eyes burned badly, unable to shut off whatever emotional valve had broken her. She pulled her knees up to her chest, and buried her face in her arms, ashamed at this outburst but unable to control it. Her sobs racked her, and the loneliness gripped her like a suffocating force. He was gone. A piece of her was missing. He had left her, and now he was gone. Hoping desperately that she never had another dream like that one, she allowed herself this violent cry. She needed to get passed him. Needed to forget.

But how could she possibly forget? He had been everything to her. His lips were the healing force in her life once, and as such they had been her downfall too. One did not simply forget a mouth like that; oh, no.

She continued to sob, not caring that it was noisy; not caring that it was messy; not caring that it made her seem weak to any who overheard her – and she was sure they could. Nothing mattered. She just… needed this.

Crying was easier than forgetting, for now. And maybe, she thought, if she was lucky – it might even be the first step.

* * *

 

_Listen to a recording of this fic: **[HERE!](https://drive.google.com/file/d/0ByO4clscogMsWU15aXhPYllDY00/view)**_


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